3:1

You wore not much more than that mask while dancing through the crowd, the smile that stretched across your face so bold and so honest that I started to get envious. I tried to remember myself ever being so happy. The day my mother bought me a Gameboy after months or years of badgering came to mind. When I finally stopped feeling so awkward and arrhythmic during sex was also pretty good. What came the closest though was an afternoon bike ride down 10th Ave. The sun freckled the road through the crossed arms of trees overhead and the air was warm and I saw three cats and stopped to pet two. It was a feeling of whole contentment that I’d never experienced before. You crossed the dance floor again and hollered something I couldn’t make-out to your friends and you all broke down laughing. In relatable terms I figured you were probably at two 10th Ave bike rides or at least three Gameboys. You pirouetted and stumbled backwards into someone and grinned. I upped it to four.